


Give You Anything, Give You This

by spuffyduds



Category: due South
Genre: First Time, Humiliation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-06
Updated: 2011-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:49:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/pseuds/spuffyduds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser follows a hunch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give You Anything, Give You This

Fraser follows Ray through his apartment door, takes a deep breath as he watches Ray head for the kitchen. He reminds himself of the advantages of being famously peculiar; if he is completely off base here, if his hunch is entirely wrong, perhaps he can convince Ray that he was simply having a short sanity lapse, brought on by an overdose of pemmican.

Or perhaps Ray will never speak to him again.

That is also a possibility, perhaps a likelihood. But Fraser cannot go on as he has been, working with Ray and watching Ray and _wanting_ Ray, approaching again and again that moment when he _must_ say how he feels, what he wants. Thwarted again and again by ADA Kowalski. No, by _Ray_ , by Ray's desperate, hopeless, almost laughable attempts to win her back every time she comes by the station on a case.

Fraser has grown angrier and angrier with Ray, watching this, rage twining around desire in a way that feels uncomfortably familiar.

It was only today--watching it happen again, watching her wearily, publicly turn Ray down, watching Ray's face flare with shame in front of his colleagues, his friends. Thinking for perhaps the hundredth time _Ray is not a stupid man, how can he think he will get anything different out of the attempt this time?_

It was only today that it suddenly struck Fraser--

Perhaps what Ray wants out of the attempt is exactly what he's getting.

It's a ridiculous idea. Nigh-impossible. Cockamamie. And Fraser was immediately gripped with the conviction that he had to try it, had to resolve this one way or another.

Not at the station, however. Everyone there was aware of Ray's romantic past with ADA Kowalski, everyone thought of it as part of Ray's personal life; scathing treatment from his work partner in front of their colleagues would be something else altogether.

So here he is, and Ray turns in the kitchen doorway, probably to ask him if he wants anything to drink, and Fraser snaps, "Bring me ice water. Now."

Ray blinks, says, "What the hell, Fraser, your polite wear off? You finally been in the States long enough for that?" He laughs a little, but Fraser keeps his expression cold and distant, and Ray goes quiet, shrugs, goes on into the kitchen.

While Ray's slamming cabinet doors and rattling ice, Fraser drops into the one comfortable armchair. Usually they share the couch when they're watching television, but that won't do, today.

Ray comes back out with a glass of ice water, walks over, holds it out, and Fraser just stares at him, his blank guard-duty stare.

"What the _fuck_ , Fraser, you waiting for a twist of lemon? _Take_ it, what is _wrong_ with you today?"

Fraser licks his lips and takes a deep breath, because _here goes_ , right or terribly, terribly wrong. And he can't just ask Ray, because he's fairly certain Ray doesn't _realize_ , or wouldn't admit it if he did.

"There is nothing wrong with _me_ , Ray," he says, coldly. "There is a great deal wrong with you."

Ray's mouth opens, closes, opens again. Ray says nothing, nothing, then manages, "... _What_?"

"You're not kneeling," Fraser says, calmly, and waits in utter terror while Ray stares at him, while a flush spreads up Ray's neck, flares across his cheeks. _Please, please,_ Fraser thinks, and glances surreptitiously lower.

Ray, thank god, is hard.

Fraser takes a deep breath, and the relief flooding through him makes him want to smile, to reach out and touch Ray now, but he resists, says "And you are _still_ standing. Perhaps you could pay attention and catch up, Ray."

Ray simply stares at Fraser for a moment more, then he sways, shudders, and suddenly he's on his knees, head down.

"Eyes on me," Fraser says, and Ray's head comes up. Ray's face is deeply flushed now, and he looks shamed and bewildered and aroused and extremely surprised.

"Barely acceptable, for a first time," Fraser says. "Water."

Ray holds it out toward him again, and Fraser takes it, takes a long drink--his throat's gone dry with his own arousal--and hands it back to Ray.

"Don't drop it," he says, and Ray nods, keeps looking Fraser in the eyes while Fraser leans over the arm of the chair. Fraser undoes Ray's belt, slowly, waiting for a word or a sign that this is too much, too fast. Ray's hand shakes, rattling the ice, but he says nothing, keeps looking at Fraser.

Fraser speeds up, shoves Ray's pants down his hips, his briefs too, and Ray's kneeling for him and half-stripped and exposed and hard, so beautifully hard, and Fraser can't resist any longer, takes Ray's cock in his hand and works it fast and rough.

"Jesus, Frase," Ray whispers, but he's breathing fast and rocking his hips.

"Shut up, Ray," Fraser says, and Ray gasps and comes all over his hand.

\--end--


End file.
